


Lips & Tongue

by Idea Turnstile (jatty)



Category: Pierce the Veil
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Romance, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7605313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/Idea%20Turnstile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike is certain his kissing is not the reason he got dumped. Unfortunately, Tony discovers it might actually be a factor. Though with a little liquid courage in his system, Tony might be able to help him out. It's just too bad he and Mike don't see things eye to eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips & Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeadMilitia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadMilitia/gifts).



> This was meant to be fluffy and funny...and then I happened to it.

“I don’t know what happened,” Mike said, letting his slice of pizza fall back down onto his tray and frowning at it as though it had been the one to dump him.

“Did he even say why?” Vic asked, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder only to have his brother shrug him away.

“I don’t know… He said a lot of shit. I think he’s been seeing someone else.”

“Well he’s an asshole,” Jaime chimed in, his eyes on Mike’s slice of pizza. 

Tony could tell just by the look on his face that Jaime was more interested in winning the slice of pizza when Mike announced that he’d lost his appetite than he was in his friend’s sorrow. He couldn’t call him out on it though. He was sorry to say he was _excited_ Mike’s relationship had come to an end. Not only was the guy a dick—always blowing Mike off to go get high with his other friends—he just wasn’t the right fit for Tony’s best friend. They didn’t look good together. Mike was far too attractive for that asshole. Far, far too attractive.

Tony ducked his head in shame, as if he thought his friends could read his thoughts on his face. 

“He said something like…he wanted things to go further and I kinda got my hopes up. Then he says I’m not _experienced_ enough. Like, what the hell? He said at the beginning that was why he liked me!”

“What a prick,” Vic said, trying to touch Mike again and getting shrugged off like before. 

“You can do better,” Jaime said before quickly tacking on, “Are you going to eat that or just keep flinging it around?” when Mike picked up his slice of pizza only to drop it again.

“You can have it. I’m not hungry…”

“Don’t give him your lunch! You need to eat,” Tony snapped, grabbing the tray from Jaime’s hand and pushing it back toward Mike.

“I don’t want it, Tony,” Mike mumbled, staring at the tray with his head in his hands. 

“Eat,” Tony insisted. “Don’t let him get in your head. He’s a loser.”

“He said I suck at kissing. How can he say that? Every other guy I’ve been with said I was great.”

“You’ve been with one other guy,” Jaime said, sulking after having his second lunch taken away from him.

“Yeah, but I’ve made out with like, five.”

“Three,” Vic said, passing his brother a sideway glance.

“Fine. Three plus him. So four… And they all said I was great. I don’t get it…”

“He was just looking for an excuse to pin it on you. He’s an ass,” Tony said. “I’m sure you kiss fine.” He tried to bite the words back, but they just spilled out—staining his cheeks pink. He’d managed to keep his painful crush a secret from his friends for the past year and a half and feared that he was about to bring it all into light. 

“I guess… I really don’t want this.” Mike slid his tray toward Jaime again and Tony let it go this time. 

( ) ( ) ( )

“I just don’t _get it,”_ Mike said, tossing aside his game controller. Well, Tony’s game controller. He’d come over after school, too pissed off to go home with Vic who had grown tired of hearing him vent. Tony offered his bedroom up as sanctuary and promised he’d give Mike some tequila if he came. 

“I told you what it was,” Tony said, strumming his guitar before scribbling down the chords he’d put together. 

“I don’t think it was that though… I must’ve done something.”

“Or maybe you just suck at kissing and it’s a deal breaker,” Tony said since Mike didn’t want to accept that his ex- was just an asshole playing games. 

“I do _not_ suck at kissing! I know I don’t!” 

“Okay, then prove it.” 

Tony felt his eyes bulge a little as soon as the words left his mouth. Did he seriously just say that out loud? Maybe he shouldn’t have stolen that tequila from under the kitchen sink—not only was he going to get it when his father found out, but drinking made his mouth run away with him and he’d lose all his friends if he wasn’t careful. 

“You really want me to?” Mike asked, looking half irritated and half serious.

Maybe they both should’ve stopped when the bottle was half empty. Tony was a little afraid that Mike might lash out at him. He got a bit of a temper when he drank and had thrown a beer bottle at Vic’s head at a party one night (not that Vic didn’t completely have it coming for pushing Mike’s buttons the way only an older brother could).

“Everybody I’ve been with says I’m great!”

“So prove it!” Tony yelled, his head swimming just a little.

How was Mike going to prove anything? Tony had only had one fling one time and they didn’t even French. He’d given a blowjob and only got a halfhearted handsie in return. What room did he have to talk? With that fresh in his mind again, Tony looked away and grabbed the bottle again. He put it to his lips and took a quick drink, grimacing a little as the booze made its way down his throat. 

“Give me that,” Mike said, grabbing the bottle out of Tony’s hand before plopping down on the bed beside him. He took a drink—a long one—then set the bottle back down on Tony’s end table beside his notepad and lamp. “God, that shit’s nasty.”

“It’s the best my dad can affor—” The rest of Tony’s words were swallowed when Mike slammed their mouths together. It shocked him to much that his first reaction was to shove Mike back by his shoulders as hard as he could. “What the hell!?” He took in a gulp of air and stared at his friend in shock. He’d imagined a hundred first kisses with Mike, but never did he imagine their first kiss would happen like that.

“You said prove it! I’m gonna prove it!” Mike said, gesturing with his hands for Tony to come closer to him. Tony just stared at him in shock. Was he really so drunk as to be hallucinating right now? Mike had never even given him a passing glance before—now they were about to make out? In his _bed?_

Shit! It was happening again!

Mike grabbed his shoulders when Tony didn’t lean in and started kissing him again. It was slow at first, giving Tony a chance to lose his tension—then Mike stuck his tongue so far into his mouth that Tony couldn’t help but gag. He tried to stifle it, but having so much of Mike’s tongue trying to fit inside his mouth made him feel like he was choking. And Mike just kept _going._ Their teeth were banging together, there was slobber all over Tony’s bottom lip—it was just so goddmaned _uncomfortable!_

No wonder he’d gotten dumped!

Tony gagged a second time, causing Mike to pull away. 

“What? How much did you fucking drink?”

“It’s not the drink!” Tony choked, wiping his lips on the back of his hand and feeling the need to spit out whatever was in his mouth. He could still feel Mike’s tongue in the back of his throat. “Oh my god! He wasn’t _wrong!_ How much did _you_ have to drink!?”

“What?” Mike’s voice was shrill with hurt and Tony felt so awful when he looked up and saw the pain in his eyes. 

“You—Nothing… Nothing. No, I-I just… I drank too much,” Tony said, ducking his head. He felt so guilty. Mike was his friend. He couldn’t tell him he kissed so badly it made him _gag._

“Shit… I really suck,” Mike said, his shoulders dropping and hanging so low in dejection. “I really, really _suck.”_

“Well—Well you’re drunk,” Tony said, trying to make it better. He didn’t want to hurt Mike’s feelings. This was his chance. It was the only chance he was going to get. 

“No, I always just… I just go for it. I don’t know. I thought I knew what I was doing.”

“There… There’s just too much… Too much _tongue,”_ Tony said. “I couldn’t breathe for a second. Don’t try to fit the whole thing in there.” 

Mike looked down at his hands, looking a little ashamed of himself.

“Probably should’ve realized that. God, I’m a moron. I’m such a moron. No wonder he dumped me.” Mike said all this as he slid from the bed down to the floor, coming to lay on his stomach by the discarded game controller.

“I told you before he’s using that as an excuse,” Tony said, laying down on his stomach and reaching out to poke Mike on the shoulder. His limbs felt heavy, like all the alcohol was hitting him at once. “C’mere.”

“Why?” Mike grumbled.

“C’mere,” Tony repeated, patting his shoulder a few more times before drawing himself back up into a sitting position. 

“Why?”

“I’ll show you.”

Mike groaned and sluggishly made his way back onto the bed. 

“What?” Mike asked, blinking slowly. 

“C’mere. Don’t slobber on me. And keep your teeth covered. I don’t think they’re supposed to hit like that.”

“Okay,” Mike said, his face losing its sadness and scrunching up with confusion—like he didn’t really understand what Tony was offering him. “So wait… What?”

“C’mere. I’ll show you.”

“Tony… I don’t… What are you trying to do?” Mike was looking at him almost with _repulsion._ Had he been sober, that look would’ve cut Tony to his core. It still hurt, even through the fog of booze, but the liquid courage told him everything he needed to say to keep his cool.

“I’m trying to _help_ you, Mike. I wanna—I wanna help you,” Tony said, swallowing hard. His head was starting to spin. All he could think about were Mike’s perfect eyes and his perfect lips and how good the _could_ feel if he learned how to use them. 

“You’re wasted.”

“So? Do you want to suck at kissing forever? I’m trying to help.”

“Tony, we’re not—I was just messing around. What are you trying to do?”

“Fix your _awful_ kissing,” Tony said, his words slurring. God he was so drunk. His dad was going to kill him when he got home from work. 

“Fine,” Mike said, huffing a little. 

Tony giggled, pleased with himself and excited about what he was about to achieve. He’d had a crush on Mike forever and they were finally going to kiss. He didn’t care that it was for practice or that Mike had started to tell him he didn’t want to, started to remind him that they were friends and not a couple. He was going to kiss Mike again and he was so damned happy.

“Okay, so just don’t slobber on me—and keep your teeth in your own mouth. M’kay?”

“You’re wasted,” Mike said, flinching a little when Tony touched him. 

It hurt a little, brought Tony back to his senses a little. What was he doing? He was getting his hopes up for something he knew he couldn’t have. But just as he started to think he’d better stop this, better change his mind and forget this even happened—maybe finish the bottle off himself to make sure he didn’t remember a thing—Mike scooted closer.

“So… Alright. Show me what to do.” 

“Okay, so just—just lean in and open your mouth a little. A _little!”_ Tony snapped when Mike came forward with his damned teeth out again. As soon as Tony called him out on it, Mike drew back, blushing nervously, and then tried again—teeth covered this time. 

Their lips touched and Tony felt his whole body go lax. Much better this time. Mike was nervous so he took things slower—though that didn’t stop him from shoving his whole tongue into Tony’s mouth again the second he got the chance.

Tony groaned, eyes snapping open as he pulled back.

“I told you not to do that! You _choke_ me! Just put in a little!”

“Well if you’re so great, why don’t you fuckin’ do it and show me how it’s done then!” Mike snapped, looking more hurt than angry when he drew back. 

“Fine! C’mere,” Tony said, swallowing hard and letting the liquor take hold. He didn’t have to be nervous. It was Mike. They were friends. And if it all went wrong, Tony would finish the bottle and his dad would kill him when he got home. Problem solved. It wasn’t like Mike was one to tell stories anyway, so if he somehow lived, Jaime and Vic would never find out. 

Tony leaned forward and put his hand on Mike’s shoulder to steady himself when the liquor started to make him sway. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against Mike’s, keeping his mouth closed at first and then moving to suck on his bottom lip—selfishly trying to make as much of the moment as he could. He suckled Mike’s lip until his friend started to sigh, then opened his mouth just a little and let his tongue slide between Mike’s parted lips. 

Mike started to poke his tongue out as well, making his way into Tony’s mouth much slower this time. Tony’s breath hitched in his throat, the pleasure flooding his brain though Mike must’ve mistaken it for another gag because he pulled away.

“What? Did I fuck it up again?” He asked, looking self-conscious as he reached up to adjust his snapback. 

“No—that was great. That was… That was good,” Tony stammered, trying not to sound as desperate for another round as he was. What would Mike think of him then? If he knew what Tony was wanting, there was no doubt their friendship would be over. No one stayed friends with the person who had a crush on them if the feelings weren’t returned. “Let’s—Let’s try again. That one was good.” 

Mike looked at him in a strange way, then nodded and leaned forward again. This time Tony let him take the lead—gently kissing, then Mike’s tongue slowly spearing into his mouth. He was good—it was better. No teeth clicking, no slobber, no choking. When Tony started to feel dizzy, he reminded himself to take a breath, inhaling through his nose while Mike slowly slid their tongues together. 

So, so much better this time. He started getting dizzy again, in a way that taking a short, desperate breath through his nose didn’t help. Mike was swirling their tongues together and it made Tony’s whole body start to tingle.

He started to fall backwards, the feelings getting to be all too much, but then Mike grabbed his arms to steady him. 

“You alright?” Mike asked, looking at Tony with humor and worry. 

“Dizzy,” Tony said, swallowing hard and taking a few slow breaths. His vision doubled for a moment—two perfect Mikes swimming before his eyes—then he leaned in again and tried to go for another kiss, only to kiss and ending up with his face buried in Mike’s neck. That wasn’t so bad though, he smelled so good—the musk of cologne and the faintest bit of sweat. 

“Tone?”

“Hm?” Tony pulled himself up, Mike helping to support him by his shoulders. 

“Are you okay? What are you doing?”

“I was—I’m going for another kiss.” Tony laughed when he said it, giddiness filling his brain. Mike was in his house, in his bed, kissing him on the mouth like a pro now. At least he was like a pro in Tony’s mind. At this point, he wouldn’t even care if he was choking on Mike’s tongue so long as he had his attention.

“I think you’re drunk,” Mike said. 

“You’re drunk,” Tony said, stealing another kiss on the lips. 

Mike must’ve agreed because he reciprocated. His teeth stayed against his own lips, his tongue stayed away from the back of Tony’s throat. Tony leaned in further, gripping Mike’s forearms as he sucked on Mike’s tongue. His body was starting to tingle again and he scooted a bit closer. 

Mike seemed into it, too. He had his hand on the back of Tony’s neck, his fingers twirling around a small lock of his hair. It felt good. All of the nerve endings in Tony’s body were singing—the pleasure building more and more until Tony moaned softly, and then a little deeper. 

That was when Mike shoved him away—shoved him hard against the wall beside his bed. 

“What are you doing!?” Mike snapped.

Tony couldn’t answer. His throat had become tight and he was left staring in shock. Mike looked so angry… _Angry._

“What the Hell!? Are you trying to get off!?”

“What?” Tony asked, his eyes getting wide and his mouth hanging open. What did he do? 

“You were moaning,” Mike said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and then spitting—actually spitting—in Tony’s bed. “Are you trying to use me to get off? I just got fucking dumped! I thought you were my friend!”

And then Mike was leaving. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and stumbled under its weight.

“Mike!—Mike, n-no! No, that wasn’t—Mike!” Tony tried to follow him but tripped on the stairs and fell. He sat there staring up at Mike as he left—staring helplessly. 

What did he do?

( ) ( ) ( )

Tony wanted to hide in the bathroom instead of going to lunch the next day, terrified of facing Mike—terrified that Mike would’ve told Vic and Jaime about what happened and he’d be kicked out of the group before he could even take his seat. He was already one demerit away from detention though so he knew he had to go to lunch. 

He’d just narrowly avoided having his father choke him to death over the stolen tequila and didn’t want to give his dad a reason to get worked up again. 

He kept his head down and said nothing as he sank into his seat, last to join the group, hoping no one acknowledged him. He was embarrassed to be sitting in the seat next to Mike—ashamed of himself.

“Whoa—why the long face?” Jaime asked, his voice actually holding genuine concern instead of just hunger for Tony’s lunch. 

“Are you okay?” Vic asked.

“I’m fine,” Tony said, picking up his fork and poking at the food on his plate. He felt so sick—and from more than just his hangover. 

“Um… No you’re not,” Jaime said. “What happened? You look like hell.”

Tony glanced over at Mike out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he’d say what happened.

“He’s just pissed because I schooled him in kissing,” Mike said, sitting up a little straighter at the table.

Tony didn’t know what he expected Mike to say, but it hadn’t been that!

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What!?” Jaime asked. He looked to Vic who shrugged and widened his face in a surprise—his entire form screaming ‘I don’t know anything about this!’

“Yeah. I wanted to know if Danny was right—you know, about me being bad at kissing—and Tony said he’d be the judge. What can I say? He _sucked.”_ Mike laughed when he said it and though Tony tried hard to tell himself that Mike was being playful, the words struck him so hard that it hurt. 

It _hurt._

“Mike!” Vic snapped, looking from Tony to Mike with discomfort etched into his face.

“What? I was—I was kidding. Tony?” Mike was looking at him, Tony could feel his eyes on him, but Tony stared down at his lunch tray. “I was kidding. Tone?”

Tony shook his head and focused all of his attention on his lunch, shoveling forkful after forkful of bland, tasteless food in his mouth. He felt like he was going to cry he was so embarrassed—not to mention his headache and upset stomach. 

He was such an idiot to have let himself think, even in the deepest pits of intoxication, that he had a chance with Mike. 

“Tony?” Mike put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. The small touch just filled him with dread. “Hey…” He was leaning closer, trying to keep their conversation private, whispering into Tony’s ear. “I’m sorry I walked out. I was really drunk. I tried to catch you this morning before class to say that. Are you mad at me?”

Tony shook his head, unable to really say anything. He was ashamed of himself, hating how he’d acted—how he’d let himself be fooled by his own stupid hopes. 

“Tony, we’re _friends._ Can we talk about this later?”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” Tony said, shrugging Mike’s hand off his shoulder. Mike didn’t like him like that. What more was there to say? People did stay friends with people who had crushes on them… “I’m sorry.”

Mike withdrew from him, Tony finished his lunch without speaking, and Jaime made a point to turn the conversation on to himself—trying to break the tension.

( ) ( ) ( )

Tony didn’t know why he agreed to come to the party. Things had been awkward sine the kiss—since the fight. Tony, who already kept quiet at lunch, let himself go completely silent. He was on the lookout for a different group to sit with in the cafeteria, knowing Mike didn’t want him around, but couldn’t find anyone with an open seat. So he stayed at the table but otherwise completely extracted himself from the group. He didn’t come to practice, he didn’t come out when they wanted him to go to the skate park…

So why did he agree to come to the party? 

“I’m glad you made it!” Vic said, screaming over the loud music.

“My dad things I’m at a study table,” Tony said. His dad still hadn’t realized his tequila was gone—gone, gone now that Tony had finished it before coming out. He didn’t want to do this sober.

“Nice! Mom thinks we’re sleeping over at Jaime’s,” Vic said, gesturing toward the kitchen where Mike stood talking to some guy Tony had never seen before. 

The guy was older—exactly Mike’s type. Older with tattoos.

Tony ducked his head and examined the floor. 

“So, do you wanna tell me what happened with you and Mike?”

“Oh—that’s? It’s nothing,” Tony said, trying to play it down. Why get into it? Vic was Mike’s brother. He’d side with Mike by default and start looking at Tony like a sick, perverse creep. 

“I know you two made out,” Vic said, his eyes shimmering the way only a drunk man’s can. “He told us at the table—you kissed him. He sucked, didn’t he? That’s why he came home all pissed off.”

“So he was mad?” Tony asked.

“Eh, I don’t know if he was really _mad,”_ Vic said, backing off when he saw the hurt in Tony’s eyes. “It’s Mike, you know? He’s weird with his feelings. I think he might’ve been embarrassed. Locked himself in his room until it was time for school, talking to himself I guess.”

“Talking to himself?” Tony asked, confused at first until he remembered how drunk he’d been when he left. 

“I thought he was on the phone with you, but apparently not.”

“He didn’t call me… Why do you think he called me?”

“I don’t know. He kept saying your name and shit—hey! Let’s get drinks. C’mon.” Vic acted as though he’d suddenly realized he shouldn’t be saying the things that were pouring out of his mouth. He led Tony into the kitchen where Mike was still chatting with the older, tattooed man.

As soon as Mike saw Tony, though, he tapped the guy on the arm and they both left. 

Tony tried not to let the hurt show on his face as Vic pushed a beer into his hands.

No one stayed friends with the person who had a crush on them. He just needed to keep reminding himself of that. Maybe in a few months Mike would forget everything that happened and they could go back to at least talking to one another… Maybe by the next school year, if he was lucky. A summer apart might do them some good as well. 

Tony stayed in the kitchen getting drunk, first with Vic and then Jaime. By the time he couldn’t see straight anymore, he’d stumbled out of the kitchen and had made his way to the living room—falling down onto the couch next to a guy who looked like Vic was clearly wasn’t once Tony got closer.

He’d embarrassed himself by plopping down like he belonged next to the stranger, but couldn’t bring himself to get back up and move. From where he sat, he could see into the house’s dining room where someone had pushed the table aside so people could dance. 

Mike was in there, dancing with that tattooed guy.

Tony lowered his gaze to his hands, thinking about how plain he looked in comparison. Even with his gauges, he wasn’t at all Mike’s type. What right did he have to feel upset over being rejected?

When he looked up again, Mike was kissing that other man. That guy smiled, grabbing Mike’s hips and pulling him in closer, seeming to enjoy Mike’s kisses. They broke apart for just a moment, Mike asking a question.

“Am I doing good?” Perhaps. Tony had trouble reading his lips, but that seemed to be what he was asking. 

The man nodded said “yeah,” making Mike smile and lean in for another kiss.

That just wasn’t _fair._

Tony pulled himself up from the couch and staggered over to the wall. He wanted to find the bathroom and vomit—he wanted to find the front door and walk himself home even though he was too drunk to see straight. All he could do, though, was sink onto the ground and pull his knees to his chest—feeling sorry for himself like an idiot. 

“Tony? Hey, what’s the matter?” Vic’s voice, though soft, seemed to carry over the sound of the blasting music — maybe because it was so similar to Mike’s and Tony was used to straining for it. He bet he could hear Mike if he spoke out loud now, two rooms away—music and all. He bet he could hear Mike from across the planet. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I might go home…”

“Go home? Why? What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I just…” Tony looked up at Vic and caught a glimpse of Mike walking behind him—heading for the kitchen with that man. Vic must’ve caught him staring because he turned and saw as well.

“I think I know what’s going on,” Vic said, sliding down the wall to sit next to Tony. 

“Nothing’s going on,” Tony mumbled. 

“Mm, that’s not what I think,” Vic said, his words slurring a little. “Look, Mike’s my brother. I’ve known him his whole life and I can tell you this: He’s an idiot. Okay? Mike’s an idiot.”

“He’s not,” Tony said, unable to stop himself from watching the kitchen doorway, waiting for Mike to come back out with his new boyfriend.

“Tony, he’s stupid. If you don’t tell him you like him, he’s just going to come to some other stupid conclusion. He’s a moron.”

“He’s _not,”_ Tony repeated. Mike wasn’t stupid, Tony just wasn’t his type. Vic didn’t need to try to sugar coat it. 

_“Tony!_ He’s an idiot! I’ve known him sixteen years. He’s _dumb._ He can’t put two and two together if you give him a fucking calculator. He’s always in his head, making everything worse than what it is.”

“He doesn’t like me like I like him… That doesn’t make him stupid.” 

Vic let out a low groan and tipped his head back against the wall. 

They were quiet for a long time, Vic staring straight ahead while Tony watched the doorway to the kitchen until Mike appeared. That guy was holding his hand and Mike was laughing—until he caught sight of Tony out of the corner of his eye. Immediately he turned toward Tony and told his new friend to wait. 

The man resisted, grabbing Mike’s hand again and tugging him toward the dining room. Mike snapped at him, actually beginning to scowl, and withdrew his hand forcefully. The man said something nasty which made Mike roll his eyes, and the next thing Tony knew, Mike was standing in front of him, leaning down to be more at his level.

“Hey! What’s the matter?” It was the exact same thing Vic had said when he’d come over. Tony guessed he must have really looked awful. His stomach was kind of sick… Though whether it was from nerves or the alcohol, he knew not. “Did somebody fuck with you?—Did somebody fuck with him?” Mike asked, looking to Vic.

“No… I’m going to get another drink,” Vic said, standing up and quickly escaping—giving Tony a thumbs up before he ducked into the kitchen. 

“Tony, what happened?” Mike asked, completely missing the exchange.

“It’s nothing. You should go back to your friend.” He tried to say it without sounding hurt or accusatory, but he wasn’t certain that it worked because, for a moment, Mike looked disgusted.

“What? No. Fuck that guy. He just wants me to give him a blow job. Yuck. Tell me what’s going on.” Mike took Vic’s place next to Tony by the wall, drawing his knees up as well. 

Tony didn’t know what to say, so he just kept his silence. He was drunk—nothing he said was going to come out right anyway. He couldn’t take the silence anymore though and when it really started to get to him, he blurted out, “I’m really sorry about what happened. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Huh?—Oh! _That._ Yeah… No, it’s—it’s cool, man.” Mike looked away from Tony to stare down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable just at the mention of it. “You were drunk; I was drunk. It happens. I mean, if you were any other guy, I would’ve totally gone for it. But we’re friends and… I don’t know. Friends just don’t do that kind of shit together. It messes everything up.” 

Tony stammered a minute, trying to think of something to say—another apology maybe—but Mike started talking again, rubbing his face and his eyes as if he could dispel his drunken haze.

“I never figured you for the type, though.”

“What type?” Tony asked.

Mike shook his head, clearly holding something back.

“What _type?”_

“I don’t know—the casual hookup type. Of all the people… I never thought you’d try to use me to get off like that.”

“I wasn’t trying to use you to get off!” Tony shouted, scaring himself with how loud his voice got. He was so horrified and appalled that Mike would even suggest such a thing that he really couldn’t contain himself. 

“Oh, really? Because you started _moaning_ and pulling on me, trying to get me on top of you!”

“I was drunk! I fell over!” Tony said, unable to help the way his bottom lip twitched. He was drunk—he couldn’t help that Mike’s yelling made him want to cry.

“You were _moaning!”_

“You were kissing me! I _liked_ it!”

“Exactly!”

“Yes!—Exactly! I _like_ you! I wouldn’t use you like that!” Tony tried to hide how hurt he was, not wanting to let on how much of a slap in the face it was to hear Mike say that he thought Tony would try to use him for a hookup. 

The thought literally made him want to vomit… Or perhaps that was the alcohol again.

“So you’re saying you _weren’t_ trying to make a move on me?”

“Mike!” Tony sighed heavily, dropping his head. He didn’t want to go over this. He didn’t want to discuss it. He was ashamed and embarrassed and not in the mood to be rejected some more. 

“Look, I’m willing to let it go. You don’t need to feel bad about it. You were drunk. We all do stupid shit when we’re drunk.”

“I wasn’t trying to use you,” Tony repeated, wanting so badly to get that thought out of Mike’s head. “I like you… I started to think you liked me too when…”

“When?”

“When you kept kissing me.” Tony felt his cheeks start burning and felt the impulse to get up and go find the bathroom again—only this time he might only be able to make it to the kitchen sink before puking his guts up.

“Oh.”

That was all Mike said. A quick ‘oh,’ and then he was looking at his sneakers. The silence that followed was almost maddening. 

“So wait… You like me?” Mike asked, his voice sounding so confused and innocent. Tony looked over at him blankly, dizzy and still sick with embarrassment.

“Why do you think I asked you to kiss me?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were dicking around.”

“Why _did_ you kiss me?” Tony asked, the question spilling out with a fair bit of accusation. 

“I wanted to prove I could kiss!”

“Well you can’t,” Tony said.

“You weren’t complaining that night.”

“I _gagged._ You choked me with your tongue! It was so gross!”

“Okay, yeah—but _after that_ you weren’t complaining.”

“Okay—after that it was kind of good,” Tony said, blushing and laughing just the slightest bit. He was still scared that he was going to mess this up—that Mike was going to remind him that they were still just friends and the kissing (despite how good it was) meant nothing.

“Want to try it again?”

“What?!” 

“Kissing. Do you want to try it again?”

Tony snapped his head in Mike’s direction, staring at him in shock. He was starting to think he was hallucinating again—just like in his bedroom. Mike wouldn’t ask him that. Mike was supposed to be repulsed by him. Mike was supposed to remind him that they were just friends.

“Come here,” Mike said, grabbing Tony by his upper arms and pulling him in. 

Tony still had his eyes open wide as he felt Mike’s lips press hard against his own, Mike’s stubble scratching his upper lip. Tony was too surprised to even kiss back, his jaw merely going slack as Mike’s tongue traced his bottom lip.

“Come on,” Mike said, pulling back for just a moment. “Don’t freak out on me. Come on.”

Tony groaned and squeezed his eyes shut before letting himself be drawn in to another kiss. He was dizzy and he didn’t know what was happening, but it felt good when Mike’s mouth was smashed against his. He couldn’t even pull back for a breath because Mike was gripping his arms so hard to keep him in place.

Mike gently pressed his tongue past Tony’s lips, moaning a little as he did in a way that made Tony’s head even swimmier. When the tip of Mike’s tongue pressed against Tony’s, he gasped a little—somehow not expecting it even though he knew where this was supposed to go. It took him a moment to kiss back, still shocked that Mike was kissing him.

Mike was kissing him!

All of a sudden, Tony felt himself grinning—making it impossible for him to kiss with his lips pulled up so high. Mike pulled back, giving Tony room to fall forward and bury his face in Mike’s chest. Tony couldn’t even make himself stop to consider what all of this meant. All he knew was that he was drunk, he was dizzy, Mike had just kissed him, and now Mike was holding him. 

He liked that. He liked that very, very much.

“Ew! Get a room!”

The jeer called Tony out of his thoughts almost violently, self-consciousness bighting him until he looked up to see Jaime laughing his ass off at them around the rim of a red Solo cup. 

Mike flipped him off, then grabbed Tony’s cheek, forcing him to turn his head until their lips could meet in another kiss. It stayed soft at first, their lips gently brushing together a few times before Mike began to suckle on Tony’s bottom lip—nipping it once, sharply, in order to get Tony to gasp and let his tongue inside. 

Who in the hell had taught him that?! That strange man with the tattoos he’d been chatting up earlier?

Just like the last time, Tony’s body started prickling and tingling like crazy—sending shiver after shiver down his spine until, at last, he slumped forward with his face buried as deep into Mike’s neck as he could get it. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Mike didn’t know what happened. One minute he was showing Tony up, kissing him like a pro and proving he did learn a thing or two about kissing since the last time they’d tried. Then, the next thing he knew, Tony was slumped over on his chest—limp and heavy as hell. 

“Tone?” Mike shook him, but got no response. “Tony?” He shook him again and got more of the same silence. 

Jaime, who had been watching with drunken interest, came over then to see what was wrong. He put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and pried him off Mike’s chest, leaving him to lean against the wall. His eyes were shut and his mouth hung open a little bit.

“Dude, he’s out _cold!”_ Jaime said before peeling off into raucous laughter. “You knocked him out!”

“Ah, man,” Mike said, cringing a little. What the hell were they going to tell Tony’s parents if they took him home like this? Unless they just didn’t take him home… Unless Mike kept him at his house for the night.

Now that idea didn’t sound bad at all…

Of course, it was awkward getting Tony home—even worse was getting grounded by his parents for coming back drunk with Tony completely passed out. He lied and told his parents that Tony’s mom was going to come get him in a little bit (a fib he knew would get him in even more trouble), and then had Vic (also very, very much grounded) help him to bring Tony upstairs to his room to “sleep it off.”

Tony had stirred quite a bit, almost to the point of waking up when they’d been in the car, but was out cold when Mike and Vic laid him down in Mike’s small bed. They laid him on his side and Mike set to taking off Tony’s shoes for him while Vic went downstairs to finish getting his ass chewed off by their father for being so irresponsible, for being a bad role model for Mike. 

Once he had Tony’s shoes off, Mike sluggishly got himself undressed, leaving on his boxers and changing into a fresh t-shirt for sleep. Well, fresh-er anyway. After changing, he climbed into the bed as well, facing Tony who slept soundly. 

Mike didn’t think he’d ever been this close to Tony before, except for when they had kissed of course. He admired how soft and smooth his cheeks looked, how round they were and how much he just wanted to pinch them before kissing it better.

He thought about kissing Tony a lot, actually. More than he’d ever wanted to admit. They were friends. He didn’t want to ruin that by having Tony catch him staring or for him to realize there was more going on when Mike invited him over to listen to music. The truth was, Mike had always wanted Tony close to him—that was why it hurt so much when he’d thought Tony was going to try to use him.

Sure, they were both drunk, but that only meant (in Mike’s mind at least) that Tony would have an excuse to ditch him after it was over—or act like it never happened. Whether it meant something to Tony or not, it always would for Mike. That was why it hurt so damned much.

He hadn’t even stopped to consider that Tony might be feeling the same way. Maybe that was why Tony always made a point to sit next to him no matter where they went or for how long. It was never Jaime or Vic—it was always him. If Mike needed to go somewhere, Tony was always first to offer to join him.

Just as the realization dawned on him, Tony started whining in his sleep. He rolled over onto his back and shivered as if he were cold. Mike was quick to cover him with whatever parts of the blanket he could reach, then settled back down at Tony’s side. 

He couldn’t fall asleep. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as Tony and he’d be mortified if Tony got sick in his sleep and choked on it the way Health Class warned him people could. He didn’t want anything bad to ever happen to Tony…

It killed him to see Tony so sad at the party, never once guessing that it had to do with him.

( ) ( ) ( )

It had been three weeks since Tony had woken up in Mike’s bed, completely hungover and loving every minutes of it. Mike brought him water in the morning and ibuprofen for his head, and after they were both finished being grounded, they went out for burgers after school. 

It was their first date, Tony guessed. Mike even paid for it—something that had never happened before. Tony spent the entire time he was supposed to be eating blushing like crazy and scanning the graffiti carved into the faux wood table.

They talked the same way they always did—about anything and everything. It was no different than before, really, and Tony hated himself for being so nervous. Mike paying for his food just made him feel…odd. 

Did that make him the woman? He didn’t know if he liked that all that much…

Though maybe he’d earned his place as the girl in their budding relationship. He’d blushed their entire dinner, blushed the whole time Mike walked him home, and then had the chance to make the first move for a kiss goodbye stolen from him as soon as they reached his front porch. 

“So… What did you think of today?”

“Today?” Tony asked, barely able to form words in his head let alone speak them. Mike was looking at him and he always felt tongue tied under his gaze. 

“Yeah… Do you think you might want to do it again sometime? Just us, you know?”

“Okay,” Tony answered. 

Mike started smiling and Tony had to look away, embarrassed and not sure what to do with himself.

“So… Do you want to try kissing again or are you just going to stand over there, Turtle?” Mike asked, grinning in an oddly sheepish way. Perhaps he was nervous too. They hadn’t really discussed dating since the party, they’d just gotten…closer. Tony guess that neither of them was really putting effort into fighting their feelings anymore and everything just fell naturally into place. “Come on,” Mike said, rolling eyes and leaning forward. He paused there, leaving it up to Tony to make the next move.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before caving and leaning in as well, pressing his lips firmly against Mike’s. Just like at the party and the time before, it sent a cold rush down Tony’s spine—bombs going off behind his eyes with bright flashes. It was the first time he was really sober enough to experience it—enjoy it with all his senses intact. 

It was slower and gentler than their past kisses as well, Mike’s tongue far less forceful when it slipped into Tony’s mouth. It didn’t last long, either, but Tony didn’t mind. After Mike pulled back, Tony leaned his head down against Mike’s shoulder, enjoying it when Mike lifted his arms to hug him. 

“So… Do I still suck at kissing?” Mike asked, his tone oddly playful. Tony can’t help but reciprocate.

“You’re doing better… I guess.”

“Better, _you guess?”_ Mike asks, eyebrows going up in surprise.

“I mean, you could always do with some more coaching. Want to come hang out? We’ll tell my mom we’re studying for Geometry.” Tony couldn’t help the dumb grin on his face.

Mike grinned at him before stealing one more kiss on the lips. That should be answer enough.


End file.
